


Christmas Traditions

by RebaK1tten



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, M/M, complete fluff, sugary sweetness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 05:59:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2721365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebaK1tten/pseuds/RebaK1tten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles bakes for Christmas and discusses the upcoming holiday.</p>
<p>Just a quick bit of sweet fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Traditions

“Stiles? Stiles, are you okay?” Peter asks, as he enters the front door and rushes into the kitchen.

Stiles nods, smile a little quivery. “I’m fine, Peter, it’s nothing.”

Peter approaches, sniffing to see if there’s any physical injury. He wipes a tear off Stiles’ cheek looking around the room for what upset his mate. 

“Really, I’m okay,” Stiles says, kissing Peter’s cheek and turning back to the kitchen counter. “It’s stupid. It’s just…” 

Peter rubs his shoulder and looks at the items on the counter. Containers of dried fruit, bags of nuts, sugar, flour, eggs. Stiles baking isn’t anything new, it’s one of the things he does to relax. 

“What is it, can you tell me?”

Stiles rubs the back of his hand over his eyes and goes back to chopping the container of dates into the large mixing bowl in front of him. “It’s fruitcake. I’m making our holiday fruitcake. My mom’s recipe. I make it every year, and yes, every year at some point, I cry. It’s just the way it is.”

“Hmm,” Peter hops up to sit on the counter next to Stiles. “But you’re okay? Why do you do it if it makes you sad?”

“It’s not like it really makes me sad, it just…I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. It’s a Christmas tradition, I make fruitcake, just like I did with my mom.”

Peter reaches over and takes a few walnuts out of an open bag. “I never liked fruitcake. Talia loved it, she never made it, but always found someone who made it over the holidays.”

“My fruitcake is fabulous. Only with dried fruit, none of that nasty peel shit,” Stiles says, nodding to the containers on the counter. “You’ll try it and I guarantee you’ll love it.”

Peter says nothing, just raises an eyebrow.

Stiles ignores his look and says, “Do you have anything from childhood that you like for Christmas; I could make you something. Mince pies or something suitable British?”

Peter reaches over and takes a date, studying it before he bites it in half. “Hmm, no never liked mince pies. Derek, he loves them. He would help my mother make them, I think he can eat about a dozen of the tart-things. He probably knows the recipe. You two could bake and cry together.”

“Okay, mince pies for Derek. Even though I think they’re kinda disgusting. What about you?” Stiles points his knife at Peter and raises an eyebrow. “What can I make for you?”

“Domestic yet slightly homicidal, aren’t you? Why do I find that sexy? How about shortbread? Do you know how to make shortbread?”

Stiles shrugs and grins at Peter. “Sure, that’s pretty easy. Butter, flour, powdered sugar, little vanilla. I can do that.”

“I think my mother used almond flavor? I remember almonds, I think,” he says. He tries for another walnut and Stiles slaps his hand.

“Sure, I can use almond extract rather than vanilla. I can either dip them in chocolate or – oh! I can sprinkle them with red and green sugar and they’ll be all shiny and Christmassy!”

Peter cocks an eyebrow and says, “I think they’re supposed to be triangle shaped and there’s no sugar on them.”

“You’re a complete Scrooge, but okay, I can do the traditional ones,” Stiles says. “So for Christmas dinner, I was thinking about making a goose, if I can find one. That’s pretty traditional, right?”

“Goose?” Peter asks, sitting up straighter. “I love goose, I haven’t had goose for a Christmas dinner in…I don’t remember. Hmm, lovely, but what will you eat?”

Stiles grins and says, “I promised my dad he’d get beef so I’m thinking a crown roast of beef? That should help feed all the wolves.”

“Are you planning on cooking for everyone?” Peter’s nose crinkles a little.

“Get that look off your face and yes, I am. Derek said everyone could come out to the house for dinner. So pack and pack families that want to come,” Stiles answers, cracking eggs into his mixing bowl.

“Then you’ll need ham for Boyd,” Peter says. “Isaac strikes me as a turkey kind of boy.”

“Oh, yeah, ham and kielbasa, it’s not Christmas without ham. I know Erica and Scott will expect tamales, I’ll see if Melissa wants to make them or can recommend where to get them.” Stiles pours his completed batter into two loaf pans and arranges candied cherries and more walnuts on top. 

“You really do mean to go over the top with this, don’t you?” Peter asks, sighing. “Thank goodness, you already have rum.” He reaches for the bottle next to Stiles, getting another hand slap.

“That’s for the cakes when they come out of the oven. But I suppose you can have some if you’re helpful.”

Peter sighs and jumps down from the counter, returning a minute later with Stiles’ tablet in his hand. He returns to his prior place on the counter, albeit, slightly closer to the bottle. “What comes first, the guest list or the menu?”

“Guest list, I think, the menu comes from that,” Stiles says, getting out two glasses and pouring them each a healthy shot. “Okay, so us and my dad. Derek and Braeden. Scott and his mom……..”


End file.
